Tag: letters

Finding the Lost

The other day, God answered a prayer I had been praying for about a month. I had lost a letter. Such a small thing, and yet it was priceless to me. It was old, yellowed, and crumbling. I was a letter from a law office, sent in 1933, informing my great-grandmother that her long-lost great-granduncle had died in California. He had not made a will, so his fortune was to be divided between any of his surviving relatives. The law office had found 36 such relatives, one of whom was Lila Green, for whom I am named. The “fortune” had been greatly reduced by the Great Depression– his stocks were worthless, and his properties greatly reduced in value. Still, the share that came to my great-grandparents allowed them to pay off debts, keep their farm, and even invest at a time when others were destitute.

I had intended to scan the letter and include it in a book I am writing about the lives, times, and families of my great-grandparents. But I had put it aside and misplaced it.

Such a dingy, yellowed, fragile letter– just a single sheet in an equally yellowed and fragile envelope with a three-cent stamp still clinging to one corner. I could not remember where I had placed it for “later.” I looked everywhere, or so I thought. And I had prayed that God would show me where it was. It seemed as though God might be telling me to “just let go” of the letter. That it wasn’t necessary for the book, and I was wasting my time looking for it. Still, it hurt to think that my great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother had preserved the letter, just to have me lose it when it could be useful again.

And then, my husband asked me to look for some paperwork to finish our taxes. Oh NO! Surely I could find important papers from the past year– I was pretty certain I knew where they would be. Still, I prayed that God would help me find them quickly. And I did! But as I was putting the financial papers away in the aftermath, I found a book bag behind the box of receipts and tax papers. It looked empty– no books inside– but it wasn’t. There, waiting patiently, was the letter, along with some other old papers I wanted to keep in my family history files!

I was so thrilled! I danced around, thanking God for His answer to my prayer. I was far more thrilled, in fact, over finding that letter, than I was about finding the tax papers!

But what about the “lost” people I encounter each day? When was the last time I put aside my other tasks and spent time “searching” for ways to share the gospel? How much time have I spent reaching out to “find” the hurting, the needy, the hopeless? Have I done more than just say a quick prayer, or shed a couple of tears? Have I even prayed consistently for weeks or even years?

Of course I pray for family members I know and love; for old friends and classmates who are struggling; even for people groups or nations where Christians are being persecuted, and the Gospel is being hindered. But that’s not the same.

This letter reminds me that there are people– many of whom “look” rather worn or worthless– people for whom Christ gave His life to save. People who need someone to listen, and offer hope. They need to be “found.” Even so, not all of them will accept the Gospel message. I can’t force them to see God for who He really is; I can’t make them choose to follow Christ. But I can do a better job of letting them know how very much God loves them, and wants a relationship with them. Yes, even those who feel yellowed and used; even those who have been sitting, forgotten, lost in the shuffle.

15 1-3 By this time a lot of men and women of questionable reputation were hanging around Jesus, listening intently. The Pharisees and religion scholars were not pleased, not at all pleased. They growled, “He takes in sinners and eats meals with them, treating them like old friends.” Their grumbling triggered this story. 4-7 “Suppose one of you had a hundred sheep and lost one. Wouldn’t you leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the lost one until you found it? When found, you can be sure you would put it across your shoulders, rejoicing, and when you got home call in your friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Celebrate with me! I’ve found my lost sheep!’ Count on it—there’s more joy in heaven over one sinner’s rescued life than over ninety-nine good people in no need of rescue. 8-10 “Or imagine a woman who has ten coins and loses one. Won’t she light a lamp and scour the house, looking in every nook and cranny until she finds it? And when she finds it you can be sure she’ll call her friends and neighbors: ‘Celebrate with me! I found my lost coin!’ Count on it—that’s the kind of party God’s angels throw every time one lost soul turns to God.”

Luke 15:1-10 (The Message)

I thank God that He helped me find the old letter. But I am eternally grateful that He seeks out and saves people like me, and like you. I pray that today, I will have eyes that see, and a heart that reaches out to the “lost.”

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What We Keep…

I’ve been posting a lot lately about going through my Mom’s “stuff.” Mom was a saver– a pack rat– a hoarder, really. She kept boxes and piles of useless things. But she also kept things that have value to those she left behind. My siblings and I have found old photographs, momentos, letters, documents, etc., that bring the past alive again..not just our past, but our family roots going back generations.

My mother with her mom and younger sister c. 1944

What prompts us to keep such memories; to hold tightly to faded papers, worn objects, shadows of days gone by? Sometimes, it is an unhealthy focus on past memories– good and bad– that keep us in the grip of “glory days” or old and festering wounds. But there IS a value to keeping a record of the past.

When I was young, we had dozens of books around the house, including Bible Story books. The stories of Abraham and Sarah, Isaac, Moses, Samson and Samuel, King David, Queen Esther, Elijah, and then Jesus, his disciples, the Apostle Paul…they were mesmerizing– and very instructive! God didn’t just give us Ten Commandments and a list of rules to follow. He left us with a rich tapestry of stories of real people, and their very real adventures. He has given us Parables, and Psalms, Prophets and Promises– the Bible is a living book that speaks to each new generation with timeless truths. I learned about the Faithfulness of God, His Holiness, and His Mercy in those pages.

The stories and photos that get passed down in families can also be instructive. I now have a baby picture of the grandfather I never got to meet, as well as a photo of him as a young man, and another candid shot of him wearing a milk bucket on his head (He was a dairy farmer)! I can see and sense his humor and love of family in new ways, and appreciate the way his life and early death helped shaped my own dad’s life. I have letters my great-grandparents wrote to each other when they were first married and starting their family. I have some of Mom’s letters when she was struggling as a single mother on a limited income. Many of these items I will keep–not only as a reminder of the past that shaped me, but to pass on to future generations. Other photos, letters, and objects have been given to certain other family members– it is part of the legacy THEY will pass on. Still other items I will let go– they have served their purpose and other items will take their place.

The little country church I attended as a child.

It has been tempting, with the amount of “stuff” that my Mom kept, to just throw everything out. Much of it has to be cleaned off, sorted, identified– and room must be found to keep it! So I also have to look around at what I have been hanging on to, and ask, “Why?” What lessons to I want to pass on? What objects tell an instructive story about my life? What impact will I have on others in the years to come?

One of the most difficult things to go through are the photos and letters my Mother kept. She kept nearly every letter and greeting card she ever received. They meant that much to her. Not the actual cards and paper– the thoughts, the love and connection–the people they represent were her greatest treasures on this earth. And I can’t keep them all. I don’t have space, and many of the people are strangers to me– her elementary classmates, co-workers from years gone by, great-aunts–people long since dead and, with my mom’s passing, forgotten by most. But I will keep some, because they are a testament to Mom’s love of others– her deep and abiding love for everyone who touched her life, and allowed her to touch theirs. I have thrown out, recycled, or given away many of Mom’s clothes and books, and I’m working to give away the thousands of unused greeting cards she had stockpiled but never sent. But most of all, I will keep the stories– stories of God’s faithfulness in her life; stories of how He worked in and through her life to touch hundreds of others; stories of how God’s Love blooms in the simple acts of kindness and baby steps of Faith; in the ordinary joys and tears and minor miracles of daily life.

And I will hold tightly to the stories of my childhood– of Moses and the Burning Bush; of Jesus the Good Shepherd; of David trusting God to face Goliath; of the women finding an empty tomb on the first Easter Morning. One of the pictures I inherited is a print of Jesus on the Road to Emmaus. Two men are walking along, talking to a third man. Such a simple act. Such an ordinary occurrence. But this is no ordinary walk– the man in the middle is the Risen Christ–the One who conquered death to bring eternal life to the two unsuspecting travelers. The print hangs on my wall now. The print itself is not of much material value– but the story! That is worth my life– to keep, to share, to cherish, to proclaim to those yet to come!

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Searching for the “Oh!”

I like to play Scrabble, and other word games. Sometimes, in order to make a certain word in Scrabble, you need to wait for an opportunity and a particular tile. It can be very frustrating to play when you have only consonants or only vowels. You need both to make most words. Vowel tiles are not worth as much as the consonants. And so most players tend to discount them. After all, if someone else has made a word, you can use the vowel from their word to make yours– sometimes. But sometimes, you really need a vowel in the right position to make your word. Sometimes, you need a particular vowel. The other day, I was hoping for an “o.” Instead, I had four “i”s! I could try to make use of the vowels I had, or lose a turn and trade in my “i”s for other letters– which might all be consonants!

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Life is not a game of Scrabble. But there are times when we are looking for something to help make sense of life. It seems like whatever “hand” we’ve been given adds up to nonsense. We need an “o” to make it work. Deep down, though, I think most of the time, we really need an “OH!” We need to look beyond whatever we have, and see the wonderful things God has already done in and around and through us.

As I was driving to my doctor’s appointment the other day, it was hazy and cool for late June. It could have felt depressing or even oppressive. But I was listening to a song on the radio. The singer pointed out that God’s goodness, His Mercy, and His artistry are all around us in nature– the sky, the singing of birds, the colors of the sunrise or sunset, the majesty of trees or mountains, the comfort of a gentle rain–and suddenly, I found my “OH!” moment. Recent rains had brought a newer, deeper shade of green to the leaves, and had caused the corn and beans in the fields to begin springing up. The haze could not hide all the life and growth going on all around me. God’s magnificence was there for anyone to see.

Sometimes, I try to substitute an “I” for the “Oh!” Instead of focusing on the SON, I fall into SIN. When I look at what I have done, or the plans or dreams I have, it can fall short. I can’t make the stars shine. I can’t create a forest, or sing a song more beautiful than a babbling brook through a meadow of flowers. My best efforts with “i” aren’t worth much. But, OH!, what God can do! OH! What God has done! And it’s this same God who loves me and knows my name!

Are you having a “hazy” day? Are you looking around for something? Something clear, and beautiful, and worthwhile? Maybe, if you have an old Scrabble game, you could put an “o” tile in your pocket or purse to remind you to see the “OH!” all around you today!

20 For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. 21 For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened.

Romans 1:20-21 (NIV)
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